Fake Relationship
by Fairly Odd New Yorker
Summary: Imogen realizes that the possibility of her dating Serge causes Constance to display possible feelings towards her and she uses this to her advantage. Someone's gonna get hurt. HB/Drill femslash
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N)**\- I'm almost finished with this but if I don't like how it goes this may be a one-shot. let me know what you think! and yes i know i have other fic to work on i haven't forgotten!

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Imogen suspected Constance might have feelings for her.

How could she not?

On their brief holiday, during which they met Serge Dubois and his band of boy scouts, Imogen noticed how the witch shifted uncomfortably whenever the ranger looked at her. How she'd clear her throat whenever the man touched Imogen on the arm. The cutting glares she'd shoot at Serge whenever he tried to engage the witch in conversation, glares which burned tremendously especially if he succeeded in making the sports mistress laugh.

"He's no good for you."

Imogen sat up in her sleeping bed on the floor of the cabin, looking towards the witch who had not gotten ready for bed yet, having protested that she wanted to stay up until she was sure the girls had all gone to bed. She was now sitting at the table, sipping some tea which Imogen had guessed she'd snuck some wide-awake potion into because there was no way she was naturally this alert at such an ungodly hour.

"Excuse me?" Imogen asked, genuinely offended by her statement.

"He's young and immature. He only has you fooled because he talks like he knows what he's doing, and because he has children to look after, but have you actually listened to what he says?"

"What do you mean?" Imogen asked in a huff, rubbing her forehead in annoyance as she plopped back down onto her pillow, staring at the ceiling.

"He's very vague. Going on about his job and his life goals, but he talks carelessly about it as if life was handed to him on a silver platter. He has no direction. He just likes the attention of women. And you're too smitten to notice anything."

"How am I smitten?" Imogen groaned, pressing the palms of her hands into her eye sockets.

"You won't stop staring at him. It's rather irritating and embarrassing."

"I'm being polite, Miss Hardbroom," she replied matter-of-factly, and she rolled over, looking at her, "Besides, what does it matter to you if I fancy him?"

She could've sworn she saw the normally-pale woman blush before she put her tea aside and turned her back on her as she went to grab her cloak.

"It doesn't." she said finally.

"Then why are you telling me all this?"

Constance opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Looking almost frightful, she quickly turned her expression into that of a sneer, "It's just not proper, that's all. Not with children around. If you had any respect for yourself-"

Imogen sat up, "Stop talking to me as if I'm snogging him in front of them and go do your rounds."

Constance's face flushed a very deep red as she scowled but was so taken aback by her foul language that she couldn't muster up a retort and reluctantly left the cabin, making sure to slam it as she exited.


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N)**\- thanks for the reviews. i apologize for this fic. i still haven't finished, i will delete it if i can't.

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Once they returned to the school, along with Miss Cackle's and Miss Bat's group, the four teachers discussed all that happened on their outings. That is, three of them discussed it – Constance was as brief as possible, claiming that she needed to catch up with 'all the work' that she missed whilst wasting time on a pointless field trip. She wanted to escape to the potions lab but Amelia insisted she grade her papers in the staffroom whilst they talked, and she relented reluctantly.

It wasn't long before Serge was mentioned.

"Ooh, he sounds lovely!" Davina cooed after Imogen described him. The blonde tried to ignore the not-so-discreet way Constance rolled her eyes as she scribbled notes.

"Please tell me you're keeping in touch!"

"Well, actually …"

The witch practically had her nose to the paper, hell-bent on not looking up at her.

"Actually we're … dating. Sort of."

That did it. Constance looked up from her paper, a flicker of what appeared to be a look of hurt sparked in her eyes followed by an eventual look of indifference, and she awkwardly returned to her work.

Imogen regretted that lie right then and there.

"Dating! Oh, good for you, Imogen!" Davina exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement.

"What do you mean by 'sort of'?" Amelia asked, raising a brow in suspicion.

"It's a long-distance relationship," Imogen explained coolly, "What with teaching and all it's not like I'll be able to see him every weekend …"

"Still, that's nice!" Davina said with a broad smile, "I'm so glad you've finally met someone!"

Constance looked paler than usual as she gathered up her papers and stacked them neatly, taking them with her as she stood.

"If you excuse me, I'll be taking light's out tonight."

"It's my turn, Miss Hardbroom," Imogen reminded sheepishly, "It's really not –"

"If you don't mind, Miss Drill, I'd like to take over tonight," she replied curtly, turning on her heel and exiting the room without a reply.

Imogen sank back into her chair with a huff as Davina continued to prattle on about her trip as if nothing had happened. Amelia eyed the sports mistress a moment, sipping her tea before she engaged in conversation once more.

Later that night, Imogen crept up the steps to the girls' corridors. She figured since she couldn't sleep and that Constance had more than likely gone to bed, she might as well do a round before turning in for the night.

She expected to find that the girls would all be fast asleep.

What she didn't expect to find was Constance, sitting in the dark stairwell with her arms wrapped tightly around her middle.

She jumped when she first saw her, having not initially seen her as she was clad in black and hiding in the shadows. Imogen could've sworn she heard a small sniffle, and her heart broke at the sound.

"Constance?" she called quietly.

The witch jumped at the sound, wiping her eyes quickly and getting to her feet.

"Miss Drill, it is way past curfew and you should be in bed," she ordered, but she did not take any additional steps to carry out that order, like ensure that Imogen vacated the area. Instead she walked swiftly past, and in just a short glimpse in the moonlight Imogen could tell that Constance's eyes were tinged with red.

She hooked her hand around the woman's wrist gently, but enough to get her to stop short. She eyed her suspiciously but said nothing, breathing through her nostrils as she stared her down.

Imogen released the witch and found herself reaching up to brush away a stray tear that had rolled down the witch's face, but Constance swiftly swatted her hand away.

"_Don't_!" she snapped under her breath, her eyes livid. She stormed off, leaving Imogen alone in the hallway with her stomach in painful knots and her heart in pieces.


End file.
